


Last to Know

by whitchry9



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Community - Freeform, Friendship, Gen, Identity Reveal, Open Secret, Secret Identity, literally everyone knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 14:50:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5669893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitchry9/pseuds/whitchry9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brett keeps getting wildly differing descriptions of Daredevil, and even his own mother seems concerned about the man's welfare. He's starting to suspect they all know something he doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last to Know

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt is here: http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/6856.html?thread=12688072#cmt12688072

Brett was slightly confused about what was going on. He'd gotten a sort of reputation as being the cop people rescued by Daredevil went to. Or he just kept getting assigned the cases when they walked in the precinct.

It was a combination.

But Brett had gotten almost as many descriptions of Daredevil as he had reports of people rescued by him.

 

 

“I didn't see much. It was dark in the room.”

Brett eyed the report from the officer who picked the young girl up. “The room was completely lit.”

“Oh yeah, I just mean... it was dark, like from my despair, you know?”

Yeah. At least that was a new one.

 

 

“Can you describe the man who saved you?”

“Oh man,” the teen exhaled. “Like, there was this bright light behind him, so I couldn't see much, you know?”

“Can you describe how he looked?”

“Like... an angel.”

Brett sighed, but wrote it down.

 

 

“He had a tail.”

“Definitely,” the brother agreed.

Brett examined the two boys and made a note on his report to get both of them tested for drug use.

 

 

“It was all so fast. I mean, he was definitely a guy. And his ass. Damn, he had a nice ass.”

“Is that the only defining feature you can recall?” Brett asked dryly.

The young woman looked up at him and rolled her eyes. “It was pretty damn impressive, so yeah, the other things were kind of overshadowed.”

 

 

The next time Brett went grocery shopping with a list from his mother, he ran into Matt and Foggy in the grocery store.

“Hey guys,” he greeted.

Foggy looked thrilled to see him. “Brett! How you been?”

He shrugged. “You know, work is crazy. Lots of people who've been rescued by Daredevil giving statements, which keeps things interesting.”

Matt's head snapped up. “Anything conclusive?”

Brett shrugged. “Nah. A lot of the younger people must have been either drunk or high, cause they've been giving crazy descriptions.”

Matt's mouth tilted up in a brief half smile.

One of the store clerks came up behind Matt and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey Matt, we've got those organic oranges in that you like. Want me to grab some for you or do you want to pick them out?”

“I'll come, thanks Lou.”

The clerk led Matt to the produce section, and Brett recognized him as one of the people he'd interviewed last week. He'd been unable to give a description of Daredevil because he wasn't wearing his glasses at the time. He wasn't wearing glasses now either.

Hmm.

 

“Can you describe Daredevil for me?” Brett asked. It had been a long day, and he wasn't expecting anything helpful, but he had to damn well try.

“I saw his face, but it was like... blurry. The rest of him was clear, but I think he might be some kind of mutant or something, like he was making it so I couldn't see his face. There were eyes, definitely, and a mouth and a nose, like, just a normal face. Hair for sure. Nice hair. Maybe brown? Or it could have been black, it was hard to tell in the light.”

“How tall was he?”

“Taller than me, for sure.”

Brett examined the man in front of him. He was barely over five feet. “Anything more specific?”

The man shook his head. “Sorry.”

 

 

“Good thing you're here,” his mother said, pulling him in the house next time he visited her, with a bag of cigars from Foggy, yet again. “I need you to go up and clean the roof.”

“The roof?” he repeated. “Why?”

She glared at him. “Why can't you just do as I ask?”

“Because it's been a long day and now you're telling me to go and clean the roof. If I'm going to do it, I want to know why.”

“Because when Daredevil passes through, I want to make sure it's safe for him.”

Brett rolled his eyes. “When Daredevil passes though?”

“Yes, when he does his acrobatics across the roofs to get to whoever needs rescuing. Cathy told me that last week he got stuck on a rusty nail on her roof and he had to get a tetanus shot. I don't want to do that to him, so get up there and make sure it's safe.”

Brett held his hands up. He knew when he was beat. “Wait, how did Cathy know this?”

“Because she had him in for a cup of tea when she heard the bang on the roof and gave him a bandage. Now go on, get up there before he comes through tonight.”

Brett went, wondering the whole time just how much his mother's friends knew about Hell's Kitchen's own masked hero.

 

 

The next time he saw Matt, it was at a coffee shop. Matt was picking up coffee, probably for Foggy and their secretary, considering he accepted three cups from the cashier.

“How much?” he asked.

The girl shook her head. “On the house,” she said, smiling.

Matt was startled. “Thank you,” he said, smiling.

When Brett got up to the counter and ordered, he recognized the girl as the one who he'd interviewed recently, who couldn't see Daredevil because of the darkness of her own despair.

So far that was two people that Daredevil had rescued that had taken an interest in Matt.

 

 

Brett was starting to understand.

 

 

He interviewed an older man who'd received a head injury after an encounter with would-be pickpockets.

Brett spoke with him in the emergency room while he was having his head wound stitched up by a nurse.

“Can you identify the man who attacked you, or anyone else who was present?”

“Ah, no. I got so excited about seeing Daredevil that I just went 'boom!' and fell over.”

He nearly hit the nurse with his hands when he demonstrated how he fell over.

“Careful there,” the nurse warned. “I've got one more stitch left.”

“Is he okay?” Brett asked her, glancing at her name tag, which read Claire.

“Yeah, no concussion. Just the laceration. He'll be all set to go when I finish up.”

“So you didn't see Daredevil's face?”

The man grinned, but shook his head as the nurse tried to place a bandage.

“Hold still,” she ordered, but smiled as well.

Brett left, shaking his head.

“Passed out?” he heard Claire ask when he left the curtained off area. “First time I've heard that excuse.”

 

 

All over Hell's Kitchen, it seemed that people were welcoming Daredevil with open arms. Brett was sent to more than one of his mother's friends to clean their roof as well. Cups of coffee could be found on balconies in thermoses to keep them warm until their neighbourhood vigilante could stop by.

And always, _always,_ Brett was given conflicting descriptions of the man.

 

 

“Could you describe the man who rescued you?”

It was a question he'd asked a dozen times over the past couple of weeks, and every time, he got a different ridiculous answer, so he wasn't expecting much from the woman sitting before him.

“Don't you know?” she asked.

Brett eyed her. It was one of the women in his mother's knitting group, one she didn't like. Too gossipy apparently.

“What what?” he asked.

“Daredevil is a woman.”

Brett managed to keep a straight face and wrote it down. “Daredevil is a woman,” he echoed dutifully.

The woman across from him looked pleased.

 

 

The next person Daredevil rescued was Foggy.

Brett met him at the ER, and when walking up to the room that the desk clerk told him Foggy was in, he heard the nurse speaking. “I mean, honestly Matt, you need to be more careful.”

“I'm fine, just take care of Foggy. He's the one who was assaulted.”

“Matt, you were stabbed,” Foggy chimed in.

“Grazed,” Matt corrected. “It was just a graze.”

“You're going to need stitches,” the nurse told him, and Brett recognized the voice of the nurse he met last time he was in the ER. “Come over later. I'm done at six.”

Matt groaned.

Brett took that opportunity to shuffle his feet and loudly make his way into the room.

“Hey Foggy,” he greeted.

Foggy looked up. “Hey Brett. What are you doing here?”

“Gotta get your statement,” he said, waving his notebook. Foggy was developing a black eye, and his left arm was in a sling, but he looked okay otherwise.

Foggy rolled his eyes.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Brett asked the nurse.

“Oh yeah. Dislocated shoulder and mild concussion. _He'll_ be fine,” she said, emphasizing her words.

“Matt?” Brett asked. The other man was looking a little pale. “You doing okay?”

“Would you believe I'm not fond of the sight of blood?” Matt asked, attempting a smile.

“Not a chance. Could it have anything to do with the stab wound I heard you mention?”

“Graze,” Matt muttered, and froze, realizing what he said.

Brett smirked. “Of course. Now, Foggy, can you describe who rescued you?”

“Daredevil? Of course. Now, it all happened really fast, as you must understand.”

Brett nodded.

“Tall, really tall. Like, seven feet or something. And when he rescued me, he looked me right in the eyes, you know, _right in the eyes,_ and told me that everything would be alright. And it was.” Foggy looked pleased with himself. “You know. Eyes,” he said meaningfully.

Brett wrote down every word dutifully.

“Got it,” Brett said. “Definitely not blind, at least seven feet tall. I'll make sure to note that in my report.”

Matt smiled. “Thank you Brett.”

Brett nodded and saluted them before walking out.

 

 

Well, there was at least one mystery solved.

Now he just had to figure out how everyone else in the city knew before he did.

 

 


End file.
